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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25603270">In Step</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnebat/pseuds/wynnebat'>wynnebat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dancing, F/M, First Kiss, Fleur Delacour and Bill Weasley's Wedding</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:41:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,016</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25603270</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnebat/pseuds/wynnebat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>At Bill and Fleur's wedding, Harry makes his move.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>282</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Fandom Giftbox 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>In Step</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/withinmelove/gifts">withinmelove</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Slight AU, no Harry/Ginny or Ron/Hermione.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Cheer up, mate. You’re at a wedding! There’s cake and French cousins and Viktor Krum,” Ron says, clapping him on the back before heading off in Hagrid and Charlie’s direction. “Fleur certainly knows how to throw a party.”</p><p>“Fred and George have already vanished with the French cousins,” Harry replies, not that Ron hears him over the sounds of conversation, laughter, and music all around them.</p><p>Still, Harry takes Ron’s advice, picking up another piece of wedding cake and looking out into the crowd of people having a good time. None of them recognize him, polyjuiced as he is, and it’s strange to stand in a public space without being gawked at or approached. Here stands Cousin Barny, with curly red hair and a stocky frame and clumsy feet. Although maybe the feet are his own.</p><p>Harry, having for a long time wished he were not quite so famous, has no idea what to do with this anonymity.</p><p>If he weren’t Harry Potter—</p><p>If he could be anyone he wanted to be, do anything he wanted to do—</p><p>What would he do?</p><p>The thing is, even wearing another’s face, he’s still just Harry. And there’s only one thing he wants to do. Something he’s wanted for a very long time. Harry finishes off his piece of cake and makes his way to the other side of the room, where Hermione is sitting at one of the tables.</p><p>“Hermione,” Harry says, then stops, taking the chair next to hers.</p><p>Hermione smiles at him. It’s the same smile she’s always had, even to this different face of Harry’s. “Barny. Are you alright?”</p><p>“Yeah. It’s been good, seeing Bill and Fleur and everyone so happy.” With a laugh, he adds, “I was even included in the family pictures. It’s the red hair; the photographer pulled me in without asking.”</p><p>“You would have been included even if you had dark hair,” Hermione assures him. “The Weasleys love you. You’re part of their family. It doesn’t matter who you look like.”</p><p>Harry nods, glancing down at his feet. “That’s good. I reckon I like the way I usually look.”</p><p>“I do, too.”</p><p>Harry looks up to find that she isn’t meeting his eyes. Hermione’s mouth opens, as if she wants to explain or change her words, but she doesn’t say anything at all.</p><p>“Do you want to dance?” Harry asks before he can change his mind. Just earlier, he had asked himself what he would do if he had all the freedom in the world. It’s this.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Harry tries not to be too awkward about it, standing up and leading her in a dance under the marquee, a little ways off from the main dance floor. Harry bumps into two people and gets told he has the grace of Auntie Muriel by one of them. Hermione laughs and doesn’t ditch him, and Harry can admit to being quite a bit in love. He hadn’t meant to fall in love. It’s the wrong time, even if it does seem to be the right place, with couples everywhere and love in the air. They’re on the very eve of war. But they have been for years, and for years Harry has wanted to be this close to his friend.</p><p>“Do you think they’ll be happy together?” Hermione asks, looking in the direction of Bill and Fleur. They’re dancing too, without a care to anyone else in the world.</p><p>Harry has to remind himself to take care with Hermione’s feet. She’s wearing cute heels with her lilac dress and Harry feels about as graceful as Hagrid, trying not to mess up this dance. “I hope so. They’re stuck with each other now.”</p><p>Hermione huffs, shaking her head as she looks back at him. “There’s still divorce, you know.”</p><p>“Do wizards to divorce?” Harry tries to remember if any of his friends’ parents are divorced. None come to mind. A lot of tragedy or happy couples. “And with the war—”</p><p>“I don’t want to think about that,” Hermione says, her voice quiet. “They’re so happy now.”</p><p>“No, I meant… when you think you might lose someone, you want to hold them close. And the fact that they got married now, even after Dumbledore’s death and the inevitability of war, means they love each other a lot.” Harry can’t seem to look away from Hermione’s face. He doesn’t know much about love. He’s seventeen. But he knows some things, like the way Hermione’s gaze goes soft when she holds Crookshanks and the way there’s fire in her eyes during an argument. He knows he’s never felt this way about anyone else.</p><p>“What about this?” Hermione asks, finally bringing it up.</p><p>They’re friends, but they’ve never been the kind of friends who dance together. Harry swallows. “I want you to be close, Hermione.”</p><p>“Me too, H— Barny.” She makes a face at that, as though annoyed at herself for almost forgetting. “We’re always going to be close.” Before Harry can wonder if she’s saying it to turn him down gently, she adds, “I like this.”</p><p>“Me, too,” Harry admits. He likes dancing with her, likes having her in his arms. Outside the marquee and the Weasleys’ backyard, war nips at their heels. Harry dreads it and he dreads the waiting. But right here, right now, he’s so happy that it hurts a little.</p><p>When they stop dancing, they don’t step away from each other. Heart hammering in his chest, Harry leans in to kiss her, but Hermione says, “Wait. I want to kiss <em>you</em>.”</p><p>They ditch the party. Bill and Fleur won't notice or mind. Inside the Burrow, Harry waits until the polyjuice wears off and kisses her for the very first time. Hermione kisses him back.</p><p>War doesn’t wait for weddings or for happily ever afters. Kingsley’s message arrives too soon. But as Harry and his best friends flee the wedding, he holds Hermione’s hand in his, and he resolves to stay as close to her as he possibly can. She’s the brightest witch of their class and, impossibly and wonderfully, she wants him, too.</p>
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